Chapter 186 - That Lie is White.
After Enkrid left, Rem—no, everyone including Rem—was busy for the first time in a long while. Instead of harassing passing soldiers, Rem increased the time he spent swinging his axe alone. He made something resembling an effort. He was constantly drenched in sweat.
It was the same for Ragna. Was Audin any different? All of them, with the exception of Jaxen, were the same. Jaxen spent far more time outside the barracks, so he only joined in occasionally. And so, the sparring, with half a life on the line, continued. It was truly brutal.
"Damn it all," a soldier watching muttered. All the soldiers who saw it shook their heads. The soldiers who watched Rem, Ragna, Audin, and even the elf company commander fight felt a sense of defeat. Despair patted them on the shoulder. Was there any human who could watch them and grit their teeth, determined to catch up?
"Are they crazy bastards?" even Torres of the Border Guard grimaced. "This isn't just discouraging."
His complaint was the complaint of the entire barracks. Could you believe you could become like that by swinging a sword every day and just keep going? The elf company commander didn't fall behind either.
"You're pretty good," she even heard from Rem. She was more than just pretty good. Excluding her lack of Will, one would believe she was at the level of a quasi-knight. What was someone with that level of skill doing as a company commander? Then again, there were others with similar skills who were just platoon members, so the elf company commander was on the milder side.
It was because of that ruckus. That was the reason the Battalion Commander gave them a separate training ground. There was also an active suggestion from the elf company commander.
"The morale in the barracks seems to have taken a hit."
The training ground was built immediately after that simple report. It was understandable. The training fever that had once swept the barracks thanks to Enkrid had cooled down. It would have been difficult to create this situation intentionally, but they had managed it with just a few passionate sparring sessions.
There are monsters like that in the world. Thanks to those monsters, a sharp sense of depression had permeated the barracks. He used to be a guy who just lazed around in his bunk, he really was. That Ragna fellow was truly a genius among geniuses. How could he swing a sword so sharply from a completely broken stance? Torres had secretly tried to imitate the movement and had fallen on his ass. It was literally a feat you couldn't copy just by watching.
And what about that guy Rem? It wasn't just his personality that was nasty; his axe work was nasty too. He slammed the axes in both hands down with force, and it looked difficult to even block the first strike. And what about the hulk of a man who blocked them all?
"Go to heaven, my brother!"
Only his words were gentle; he practically lived with the words "I'm going to kill you" on his lips. And it didn't end there. He didn't fall behind even with his bare hands. He sometimes came out with a club, but he was basically a hand-to-hand fighter. Audin was a master of martial arts. He had a record on a previous battlefield of breaking an enemy soldier's neck bone like snapping a cornstalk and twisting off limbs like breaking branches.
"May you go to the Lord's side!"
He was a terrifyingly skilled man. Behind them was the guy named Jaxen, with his crazed eyes, who just swung his sword without a word. And finally, the elf company commander was the finishing touch. The motivation of every soldier who watched them plummeted. They were people who didn't even train properly, yet their talent was dazzling. A talent so bright it could blind you.
It was into this situation that Enkrid returned.
Rem had been honing his senses through life-or-death sparring. For the next step, for a better tomorrow, he had swung his axe in earnest for the first time in a long while. Even before this sparring where he put half his life on the line, he had been confident he could win against that quasi-knight Aishia, if she came at him. No, he was confident he could kill her. The technique called Will that quasi-knights used was still a matter of handling the body; at the very least, he wouldn't be knocked out pathetically. Even if a rare, exceptionally skilled quasi-knight came along, he might not win easily, but he wouldn't go down in a single blow.
And that Rem had properly honed his senses. He had put in the effort to improve his skills. It was the same for Ragna. Enough that the word 'lazybones' no longer applied to him. He held his sword morning and evening, swung it, and was lost in thought. He wasn't sleeping; he was truly meditating.
And yet.
'The rhythm isn't breaking?'
Rem was half-serious. If he got any more serious than this, one of them would have to die for it to end. If this was a spar, it should have ended here. And yet.
'A little more.'
Enkrid's sword fell from above. A slash aimed at the crown of his head. When he struck it with his axe, the blade bent and came down. This time, it wasn't a snake, but a bird of prey. It looked like a hawk gliding through the air, diving for its prey. The swinging sword momentarily accelerated, trying to slip out of Rem's sight. He barely caught a trace of it and defended again.
CLANG!
'Son of a bitch.'
Rem found himself smiling. When had he ever had a moment like this while sparring with his platoon leader? Before, yes, it had been enjoyable. But it was just that—enjoyable. A pleasure on the level of a lively dance.
So, what about now? A thrill rose up along with his fighting spirit. He wanted to feel more of this.
'Just a little more.'
The axes, which had at first been swung to gauge his skill, began to close the distance. In the standards that Rem and Ragna had first set, the fight had escalated from a warmup spar without risking their lives to a spar where half a life was on the line.
Flick.
It was in a gap where Rem had crossed his axes. He thought he had blocked flawlessly, but a thrust pierced through a tiny gap and grazed his cheek. A scratch. Just a scratch. But he hadn't blocked it. The corners of Rem's mouth twisted into a grotesque grin. He was so happy he thought he would go crazy. The excitement went past his brain and dug in. He felt something new flowing from every part of his body. Heart of the Beast activated on its own, heating his entire body.
His heart pounded. THUMP. At the same time, he swung his axe with all his might. The transition from half a life to a whole life on the line was instantaneous.
In that moment, Enkrid's eyes went slack, and like a puppet with its strings cut, his sword fell to the ground with a thud.
Rem was shocked.
'Son of a bitch!'
He didn't have the strength to pull back his axe. He was about to split his platoon leader's head open and see his brains. It was a gap, a moment that could be called an instant.
CLANG! A sword came in and blocked the path of the axe. Thwack- Two hands grabbed his rugged forearm. And finally, a thick hand snatched his left wrist, which had been about to move reflexively.
In order, they were Ragna, Jaxen, and Audin.
"Are you going to kill him the moment you see him?"
"...Damn it, kill him? I was going to stop, perfectly, cleanly, and stylishly. Why the hell are you interfering?"
It was a bluff. They all knew. And they also understood. Ragna, Audin, and Jaxen had all seen it. Their platoon leader had changed. He had returned at a level they had not expected, had not anticipated. Unhesitating strikes, a battle of wits, and the coordination of his body. And what about the change in his reaction speed and athletic ability?
Jaxen, who made it possible, identified it at a glance. 'Instinct of Evasion.' He was quite satisfied. Especially the fact that Enkrid had properly mastered it. Jaxen nodded.
Ragna saw something else. 'A refined sword.' Should it be called swordsmanship? The class of his sword style had changed. The way he swung, the way he thought—it wasn't just different. 'He combined his strengths with a formal sword style.' This meant he hadn't just blindly followed orders, but had properly understood and learned the swordsmanship. In just two months? Even if the Frog had devoted all her heart and soul on the road, would this be possible? Ragna knew better than anyone that his platoon leader had changed and would continue to change. What he needed was the talent to control his body, and now, those things had accumulated. Ragna's eye for such things wasn't bad. But this…
Among them, only Audin had a perfect grasp of the state of Enkrid's body. 'It truly brings a smile to my face, Platoon Leader-brother.' His physical condition was truly delightful. The degree of his training, his changed athletic ability. And what was the foundation of it all? The foundation that allowed him to learn the technique of the wildcat-brother, the Instinct of Evasion—what was it?
'It is the Isolation Technique.'
Among priests, those who focus on physical training are called monks. The Isolation Technique was created by honing their methods of physical training. Enkrid's body had been built that way.
'He must have achieved the Regenerative Body state as well.'
The dramatic improvement in his recovery power is one of the reasons for rebuilding the body. It was a delightful time once more.
Finally, Rem was shocked. More than ever. 'When did he get to this point?' The thought truly came to him anew. The madman who had asked for a spar the moment they first met had now become a madman with skill to match. He had perfectly evolved into a certified madman. It was surprising, and surprising again. And Rem found it incredibly fun. Was it important how he got stronger?
'No.'
It was not. It seemed like things would be fun from now on.
Just because a separate training ground had been made, it wasn't as if all sides were blocked. A fence full of holes, a fence that barely reached an adult's chest—what could it possibly hide? It merely created a boundary. And beyond that boundary, there were those who watched the spar. The soldiers who had lost their motivation and whose spirits had been broken. Among them was Vengeance.
'Monster bastards.'
Rem and the rest of the Madmen Squad were a veritable group of monsters. Looking at Enkrid, who stood at the head of such a group, he couldn't understand how he was in that position. And then Enkrid had returned. And Vengeance saw it. An Enkrid who did not back down a single step from Rem.
He knew his beginnings. Because he had disliked him, he could say he knew him even better. Enkrid had been a truly unremarkable soldier. The lowest-ranking soldier—that was the term to describe him. 'An old, talentless man.'
But what about now? He didn't know the difference from their previous spars. But he could feel with his entire body that the atmosphere was different. Rem and Enkrid. The members of the Madmen Squad around them. And above all, Vengeance's own feelings. It was too different. Right down to him collapsing at the end.
Vengeance knew that his broken spirit had merely been a campfire whose embers had temporarily died out. 'I can do it too.'
It was strange. When he looked at Rem, Ragna, or Audin, they just felt like monsters. But when he looked at Enkrid, he wanted to emulate his effort. It made him want to stand on the same line, to stand by his side. Was it because he had watched his effort all this time? Or was it just a matter of familiarity? He didn't know. Such worries were not in Vengeance's mind. Only a desire remained.
"Special training today!"
"Yes, sir!" Vengeance's platoon answered in unison. It wasn't just Vengeance. All the soldiers were the same. In the hearts of the soldiers who saw Enkrid fight, the flame of motivation soared. It was perhaps inevitable that a strange training heat swept through the barracks from the next day.
Enkrid sparred with Rem on the day he returned.
"I think I overdid it. I'm not perfectly used to it yet, either." The reason his eyes rolled back and his strength gave out was because he had overused Heart of the Beast. Then again, that Rem had come at him with intent.
"Won't you get used to it if you keep using it?" Rem said, but he was half in doubt. Had there ever been anyone besides himself who had properly mastered this? He didn't think so. Enkrid was the first to go beyond imitation and digest it to this extent.
The next day, he sparred with Ragna.
"Where did you learn that sword style?"
"From a passing malevolent spirit." It wasn't a lie.
Then, Jaxen also unusually joined in a spar. And Audin taught him a new joint lock. Enkrid was happy that there were people who would join him like this as soon as he returned. How enjoyable was this? To be able to swing a sword and push his body without rest. To be able to move forward for a new self. To be able to gain something even without repeating the day.
"Fiancé?"
The elf company commander also came. Naturally, a spar followed. Only then did he realize. When the company commander held a sword, she was no less skilled than Rem.
"Our ranks are the same now, so when should we hold the ceremony?"
When would she stop with the elven jokes? He had no intention of saying anything about it. There was no reason to. It was now a part of daily life.
Esther, who had slept for two days straight, now only came into his arms once every two days. He didn't know what kind of change was happening.
Krais properly sold the few ancient gold coins they had acquired. In addition, the pioneer village bought the weapons the gnolls had possessed at a generous price. With one thing and another, their krona supply became quite abundant.
In between spars, Enkrid visited the blacksmith.
"Broken? The armor?"
The outside of the armor was torn and dented, and many of the chain links inside were broken. In other words, it was properly ruined. The swords were broken. The cores were damaged. They couldn't be saved. Still, he had brought them, thinking they could be melted down and reused.
"Both of them?"
"It just happened."
He had cut down hundreds of gnolls. He was lucky it ended with just this.
"Do you have any spare chainmail?" Enkrid asked. The blacksmith sighed and nodded.
"Not right now, but I'll make you one. We've gotten some good iron in recently."
At the blacksmith's words, Enkrid nodded and presented a sword. The item that had been called a cursed sword.
"Could you sharpen the blade on this?"
The blacksmith examined the sword and said, "This doesn't look like a common item. Just the blade?"
"No. A new pommel and hilt, too. And the balance seems slightly off."
The blacksmith nodded. The blade itself was excellent, but the accessories were a mess.
"Some good deer leather came in. I'll wrap the hilt with it for you."
He was saying he would do the job. Enkrid nodded. After paying a suitable price, he stopped by the seasoned jerky shop and picked up a few pieces, and soon it was evening.
"Not eating more?"
"It's time to go."
He couldn't ask the blacksmith for a new sword as well, so he planned to acquire one through an incoming merchant. Somehow, I ended up empty-handed. Enkrid's waist felt empty. Though for someone feeling empty, he still had a shortsword, a guard sword, and a knife, but he still felt it.
'The weather is nice.'
But for some reason, the city's atmosphere was not good. He asked a few passing merchants, and the answer came quickly.
"There are rumors that a bandit group is targeting the city, and that monsters are coming from the south. And I heard an envoy came from the eastern city and raised a ruckus."
The Border Guard was a military city. To be precise, one that bordered Azpen. A bandit group was targeting a place like this? An ordinary group wouldn't stand a chance. Still, there were always mad bandit groups. They had caused problems during the war with Azpen, too. The monster problem was a constant.
From here, the east? That would be the city called the City of Swords. It was also a daily occurrence for them to pick a fight. However, the fact that such rumors were spreading would be a problem. There's a saying that when ominous rumors spread, the number of children increases and goods decrease. It meant that citizens wouldn't wander outside and would stay in their homes, and the visits from outside merchants would become infrequent. There had been a similar problem before when the number of monsters increased too much, and the Border Guard had dispatched troops. Enkrid had taken on one of the requests and had gone out. It was when he had cut down the harpies. That had been quite good. The feel of the fight had been satisfying.
In any case, though ominous rumors were spreading, no orders had come down from above yet, so…
'They'll handle it.'
Commanders have their own roles. He had been appointed as a Company Commander, but it was still unofficial. It meant it was the Battalion Commander's personal, unilateral decision. And the nobles behind him. What should he say? There were many of those snake-like bastards who looked like blue blood flowed through their veins in this city, too. He didn't like it, but it wasn't as if he could just stab them all to death on sight.
'I'm not Rem.'
It was obviously impossible.
When he returned to the barracks, he saw Rem.
'Right, I can't live like him.'
"Your eyes look strange."
Rem's intuition was on par with Krais's. Especially when someone was badmouthing him.
"Been talking shit about me? While wandering the market? No, you were cursing me in your head."
Sometimes, when he was overly sharp, it made one think his intuition was truly extraordinary.
Enkrid acted according to his beliefs. If a lie could put the other person's mind at ease, it could be called a white lie.
"No," he said, shaking his head.
"Then why do I feel bad?"
'That's because your personality is twisted.'
"I think you just cursed me again."
"No."
A place where sharp intuition and white lies came and went. Enkrid now felt that this place was like his hometown. Hadn't the Battalion Commander said he hoped he would love the city? It might not be a passionate love, but he didn't dislike it. Sincerely.